Wild Spirit: Huntress

by Victoria Wren

  Win straightened her back. “Pretty uneventful.” She smiled at her lie.

  He sloshed back some of his drink. It looked like a beer, and Win wondered how he had gotten served. Hardy’s was becoming slack. But Jay did look more like twenty-one than eighteen.

  “That isn’t what I heard. You’ve been hanging around with Luke? He’s crashing at your place?”

  Win knew where she’d seen him before, as well as on the court. He was one of Rosene’s crew. “His grandpa died. Did you know?”

  His face dropped. “Oh no, Rose never said,” he faltered. “I should call him. Though I don’t think there was any love loss there.”

  “No. He’s been in Boston; he had an emancipation hearing. No love loss there either.”

  Jay laughed nastily. “He’s a dumb shit. Rosene is better off without him.”

  Win frowned. “He isn’t dumb. He’s done the right thing.” She shut her mouth; Jay had lost interest and was gazing across the tables toward his friend, nearing with beer. Feeling stung, she ducked her eyes back to her book, pretending she didn’t notice when the other boy turned to look over his shoulder at her. He was also skinny and long with strawberry blonde hair. They both whispered and laughed. About ten minutes later, Ella pushed her way out of the bar. She hurried across to their table and planted a couple of plates of fries down in front of them.

  Ella met Win’s gaze and was in the moment of opening her mouth to speak to her when one of the boys cackled. “That’s the girl Frasers been nailing all summer.”

  Win felt a rush of heat whip up her spine, her eyes darkened, and she flew out of her chair so quickly it went careening backward. Their laughter was cut short by the chair clattering on stone as she loomed over their table. Ella groaned and took Win by the wrist. “Win, it's alright…they’re jerks.”

  Neither spoke. They didn’t dare. The look on Win’s face was enough. Her eyes were flashing rapidly from their usual green to yellow, her pupils narrowing to a pinpoint like she was staring at prey.

  “Win, come on,” Ella begged, dragging her away. As Ella pulled her around a corner, they laughed again, but this time it was a release of adrenaline. They were relieved she’d gone. One of them sniggered. “Whole family is batshit crazy, and she’s no different.”

  Win stiffened, but for Ella’s sake, who was upset and turning red, she let the insult roll off her. “I should have expected this,” she said miserably.

  “To be insulted by jerks?” Win snapped.

  Ella hurried to the breakroom, tugging on the strings of her apron, and appeared with her bag moments later. “No, but there are going to be consequences…now Luke and I are dating. Rosene won’t make my life easy.”

  Win’s face cracked into a grin. “Bet it feels good to finally say that, though, huh?” Win had begged Luke to change his Facebook status. She’d teased him remorselessly until he eventually told her to get lost.

  Ella grinned, linking her arms with Win as they walked out of the bar. “It does. However, I’m kind of dreading school starting. I wish it could be summer all the time.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Win wiped at her brow. “But seriously, don’t fret about Rosene. We’ll avoid her at all costs.”

  They were walking to Ella’s car. “Is he home?”

  Win knew she meant Luke. He’d been in Boston for two days with her father. They’d heard nothing except the hearing had gone well, and Luke was on the path to getting himself permanently divorced from his father. But now, the real scary stuff began. Luke was officially his own man, which meant he had no legal guardian to back him. He was technically homeless and had to pay for his own college education, his own car, housing, and support himself, and get through his senior year at Furlows.

  “He got home this afternoon,” Win said as they jumped inside the stuffy interior of Ella’s car. “But he was exhausted and went straight to the den. My dad said it went well, technically speaking, but it was horrible. For Luke, I mean. His dad is a real piece of work.”

  “Do you think he’ll want to see me?” Ella asked shyly, and Win bashed her shoulder.

  “Of course…hey didn’t you have news you promised to tell me?” she reminded her. Ella leaned over into the back seat, rifling with some books which had fallen out of a cloth bag. She heaved them into the front and dumped them in Win’s lap. Win stared down at the old textbooks, and some looked like they were decades old, with worn-out, tattered interiors.

  “What’s this about?” She was worried, more by the expectant look on Ella’s face.

  “You know I said I had found something? A way we could call to your great aunt?”

  Win’s lips pressed together thinly, prickles of apprehension spreading across her palms. “Hmm.”

  “Well, I’ve been doing some reading, and I think I’ve found a chant which can help us, and I’ve gathered the things we need. Look in the bag!”

  Win rolled her eyes, digging her hand inside the cloth bag, her fingers curling around something hard and wooden. She pulled out what appeared to be a hollow bamboo stick. It was intricately carved with several animals, notably a bear and an eagle, and on the end, there were several long, tapered feathers, striped with brown and gold flecks. Win raised a confused brow. “What’s this..?”

  “It’s a spirit stick.” Ella’s voice was breathy. “I kind of stole it.”

  “Kind of?”

  “Well, it’s on loan…shit. I’m in so much trouble, Win!”

  “What the hell have you done?”

  “Well, you know my mom has been volunteering at the museum. They had to shut it down as the air conditioning broke…and I read about this stick and saw they had one in one of the Native Atoloa displays….”

  Win swallowed. “Oh, Ella…when do they reopen?”

  Ella blew out air. “They plan to open on Monday, which means I have two days to get this back without them noticing it’s gone. So we have to do this thing…like yesterday.”

  “And what exactly do we do?” Win snapped, a tension headache forming at her temples. “Chant over bones?”

  “I’ve got it all written down in my notes,” Ella promised. “We need four of us to call the corners, and we need to be in the place where she died.”

  Win groaned. “Luke’s attic? Good job, they haven’t sold the place yet.”

  “We need to get in there somehow. He’ll still have keys, right?”

  “I’m sure he does. The old maid has left for Hawaii. It's empty. Urh… it is going to be so creepy! And what’s going to happen? Is this like a séance?”

  “I don’t know for sure…only what I’ve read is the spirit you’re calling for should appear and lead you to what you seek. In this case, the metal door.”

  Win puffed. “Ella, this is crazy.”

  “No, the summer we’ve had is crazy. I want to help you find your lost family.”

  After a few moments of palpable silence, Win said, “Then we better go talk to Rowan.”

  “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Rowan barked.

  Win and Ella sat on the back porch while Rowan sat up straight in her lotus yoga pose, her back as stiff as an iron rod. They’d caught her mid yoga session, something she did most nights outdoors to help her unwind. She’d had many failed attempts at dragging Win into one of her sessions, but Win’s daily mediations were enough. Luke lazed casually on an easy chair, his legs crossed, listening to the whole thing with avid interest.

  Win could only imagine what he must be thinking.

  “So you won’t help us?” Ella asked meekly.

  Rowan sighed heavily. “Run this by me again.” She rubbed at her temples, crossing over her legs on her mat. She was listening but pushed herself into an eye-watering pose; she called handstand scorpion. This involved her placing both hands flat on the mat, balancing her whole body weight on them, and bending her back at such a pivot she could bring her bare feet right in front of her face. Win looked at her through h
alf-closed eyes, unable to stand the tension when she performed these crazy poses. But Rowan held it with grace, unmoving and unblinking. “It’s okay. I’m still listening.”

  “Okay…so I found this chant in a book I’ve been studying. It’s about calling to the spirits or, in this case, spirit and asking for guidance. I wondered because of Win’s visions and the fact she was compelled to find Iris, this aunt of yours might be the one to help you find your family.”

  Rowan unleashed her pose, winding back into a cross-legged position. Luke unclenched his jaw, having not taken his eyes off her the whole time.

  “So, what do we have to do?” Rowan asked. “I mean, it makes sense…there doesn’t seem to be any way I know of finding them. Apart from the white wolf, we know for sure where she is.”

  “I’m not sure what we can do about her.” Ella shook her head. “But this chant might lead us in the right direction. If we find them…well, that’s got to be down to you guys.”

  Luke smirked at Ella, they met eyes for a moment, and she blushed. “You did good, Ella,” he said.

  “I don’t get why I can’t ask Evan about this,” Rowan puffed; she flexed her shoulders, pulling out the kinks. “I mean, she was the matriarchal leader of an actual Atoloa tribe. There is no one better qualified to help us.”

  Ella looked helplessly at Win. Rowan followed her gaze and frowned. “You still don’t trust her?”

  Win rose fluidly to her feet. “No, I don’t, okay? And I’m sick and tired of everyone telling me how to feel. I found Iris. What I’m really asking is, why don’t you trust me for once?”

  Rowan tilted her head, her red curls tumbling across her shoulders; she was about to speak when Win cut her off. “Look, maybe I’m wrong about her! I hope I am. I want you to be happy. I’m doing my best here, Rowan. I’m doing as I’m told, toeing the line. I’ve given up…” Her mouth closed around the word Grayson, a lump lodging in her throat. It had been six endless, tiring days since she’d last seen him. She couldn’t stand another second of it. It was intolerable, but she would bear it. For her grandpa and for her own sake.

  Rowan’s gaze was downcast. “Alright, honey,” she agreed. “We do this your way. You got us this far.”

  Win’s fragile ego boosted, she smiled grimly. “Alright, Ella says we need to do this chant in the place where she died.”

  Luke made a face. “That might be a problem. I had to surrender my keys.”

  “But you can break us in, right?” Rowan encouraged him. “Come on. I thought you were Spencer’s rogue little brother?”

  Luke gave her a wry smile. “There are a couple of loose panels around the servant’s entrance…where Spencer used to sneak out to meet you.”

  Rowan huffed at the memory. “It’ll have to be our way in. What else do we need, Ella?”

  Ella sat up, leaning forward with interest. “I have everything in my car. All we need is your aunt’s remains.”

  Win and Rowan exchanged knowing looks. Rowan nodded. “I can get the bones. I know where he’s keeping them.”

  “Look, guys, I stole something from the museum for this chant, so we need to do this soon. I have to have it back in place by Monday, or else they might blame my mom,” Ella added, urgency in her voice.

  Rowan stood fluidly in one motion. “Then how about tonight?” she said. “I think Dad is beat after the trip. He’ll be too exhausted to notice anything. Grandpa will be in bed. We could meet in the woods after dark?”

  “Okay, good.” Ella nodded. She was trembling slightly, the realization of what they were about to do becoming insanely real. “I hope I can do this for you.”

  Win put a firm hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “You can do this. We’ll be together, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll find another way.”

  Ella swallowed, having paled under her summer tan. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the Mercy gates at eleven-thirty?”

  “Park in the woods, El,” Luke told her. “We’ll meet you.” He turned to Rowan, who looked pained, her angled features pulled back in tension. “Where is Evan tonight? You weren’t meant to be seeing her or anything?”

  Rowan bit her lip. “I was actually,” she huffed, annoyed. “I’ll have to lie, say I’m ill.”

  “I’ll make the call,” Win cut in. “She won’t believe you; she’ll hear it in your voice. I’m far better at lying.”

  “Okay,” Rowan agreed as if the act of lying to Evan was abhorrent to her. “You’ll have to make it sound convincing. Otherwise, she might try and come over.”

  Win smiled, the thought of outright lying to Evan down the phone, not phasing her one bit.

  Nineteen

  CRISP LEAVES CRUNCHED underfoot as the three of them plowed through the darkness. Luke had unintentionally wandered closer to Rowan as she stalked ahead, their shoulders bumping as they walked. He struggled to keep up with the older red head’s rapid pace. When they stopped at a tree stump, he slumped against it, out of breath. Under his jacket, he carried a flashlight, but for the moment, he’d been relying on Win and Rowan’s night vision. Up above, the stars lit the night, twinkling like tiny eyes peeking through the woodland canopy.

  Win narrowed her eyes, letting her night vision kick in; ahead of her, Luke was a hazy blue blur, but the leaves they walked on, the shapes in the distance, were startlingly clear. Win lifted her gaze, finding the falcon flying above. She’d been circling overhead for some time, darting through trees, peering down at them. At one point, Win passed close enough she brushed her shoulder.

  Be careful, she warned. Luke cast his eyes back over his shoulder, his hiss of fright carrying on the light evening breeze. “What?” Win laughed.

  “That is disturbing.” He was referring to Win’s eyes, the way they’d pulled apart, widening to let in as much light as they would allow.

  “You think that’s bad. This will give you nightmares,” Rowan joked, stopping by a tree and unbuttoning her jeans. She stripped down to her underwear, and Luke turned around hastily.

  “What the hell Rowan?” he cried, attempting to keep his voice low. He needn’t have bothered. They were alone.

  Win pricked back her ears. The night echoed around them. In the distance, there was a faint rumble of the road. An animal scurried through the undergrowth, skittering through the leaves.

  “Relax, I don’t want to ruin my clothes,” Rowan told him. “I’m going to circle overhead. Check around Mercy and make sure we don’t have any interlopers.”

  “You mean ghost hunters? Dad had a protection order keeping them off the land, so the new owners won’t have the same problems we used to.” Luke was squinting, trying to look away, as naked Rowan ducked behind a tree.

  “Still, we need to be sure,” she said. “This won’t take long…but you may want to avert your eyes.”

  Luke’s face twisted in horror, allowing her some privacy as he joined Win in a small clearing. The sound of squelching, bones cracking and bending filled the air, and he went white, the moon reflecting off his glasses. “What…is that?” he choked.

  Win sighed. “Rowan is morphing. It sounds worse than it is,” she said, remembering the first time she had witnessed her sister transform into the eagle.

  Luke swallowed sickly, his lips a strange tinge of green in the dim light of the forest. “Does it hurt?”

  “Like hell.” Win shoved her hands in her pockets. She knew how Rowan fought not to scream. Her memories cast back to the moment she had looked in on her own mother, watching her body writhe and bend on the nursery floor, the way her fingers had splayed at impossible angles, her tender skin splitting under the strain. The scream still echoed in Win’s mind. It made her gut clench.

  “Will that happen to you?” Luke asked, his concern jerking her back to the quiet of the clearing.

  Win shrugged. “I guess,” she murmured, her head snapping up as the tree line burst, the giant eagle rocketing out of the canopy. Win smiled. “There she goes.”


  Luke staggered sideways, his eyes trying to follow the path Rowan had taken, the noise of her wings beating the air ebbing away into the distance. He perched on a log, brushing away the moss with his fingers.

  “So what’s the deal with you guys? Seeing as we are distantly related, I ought to know a little more.”

  Win crossed her arms, rubbing away a chill. “Like what?”

  “Like that wasn’t a normal eagle…it was bigger?” he mused. “I’ve seen the white wolf in Lincoln museum. It’s gigantic.”

  “I think whatever animal we turn into is a more exaggerated form. Like Grandpa is a bigger wolf than most of his species.”

  Luke scratched his chin. “And your grandpa is old? As old as my grandpa was?”

  “He’s ninety-three,” Win confirmed and watched Luke’s face drop in amazement.

  “That’s insane. He looks about fifty.” He looked up at her. “Good for you girls, though, fewer wrinkles.”

  “Ha, thanks!” Win threw him a glare. She thought for a second she’d heard something behind them, movement on the ground. But when she looked over her shoulder, there was no one. Win told herself she was jumpy. When they’d crept out of the house, John had been snoozing in front of the television and Ben reading in bed.

  “How is it even possible, though?” Luke was saying. “Surely people would have noticed him around town…hey, that guy has been drinking in the bar since 1940?”

  “Well, I don’t think he was allowed out much,” Win tried to explain. “He didn’t go to school until he was in his thirties, and he passed for a teenager. But I kind of get the feeling most people know about this family. There are so many stories…Vivienne Hickory, for example.”

  “And my grandmother,” Luke added, his voice somber. “Grandpa never talked about her. Neither did my dad. So she died because she was separated from her brother? Or the land? Like what happened to your mother.”

  Win shook her head. “No, she would have lived fine here in the town.” She didn’t want to say the words brimming inside her. She was starved to death, locked in an attic. “My mom died because she was too far away. She lived in Boston for years with my dad, but I think childbirth weakened her, and as the years passed, she couldn’t control it anymore, so she had to give in.”